


Polaris

by gemlins



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aaravos is Aaravos, Angst, Blood, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Slow Burn, Snark, Swearing, reader is a nerd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-11-17 15:17:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18101114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemlins/pseuds/gemlins
Summary: With Viren detained and King Ezran returned, the kingdom of Katolis is left wondering where it stands, yourself included.  Tasked with documenting Virens' recently discovered lair, you stumble across a mirror that may hold all the answers you seek, but at what cost? [[DISCONTINUED]]





	1. Encounter

_Of course_ Viren had to have his secret lair sequestered away in the darkest, creepiest part of the castle. No self-respecting mage could have their super illegal magic lab in a nice, well lit sun room or parlor.

Gods forbid.

Sighing you gripped your lit candelabra tighter and made your way down the winding staircase. The further down you went, the staler the air became. The colder, too, you bitterly noticed. It felt like a crypt. You pulled your cloak tighter around you and mourned your fate.

When Viren was arrested, there were still many unanswered questions and the ex-Lord was being less than forthcoming with answers. With the return of King (and wasn’t that a thought) Ezran, the more...forceful interrogations had been halted and therefore the investigation was at a standstill. 

As head scribe for the crown, it was your job to go and document each dark artifact, spell book, mysterious liquid or particularly suspicious rock for the official records. Both the King and his council hoped your findings would shine a light on Virens’ scheming, though you had your doubts anything important would be found so easily. Mages had many methods of concealing their secrets, and being no mage yourself, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recognize if something had been spelled.

Either way, you had to try. The guards had cleared the area of any immediate threats, but that definitely didn’t mean it was safe. You were under very strict instructions to not touch anything, and with the growing sense of dread each step brought, you found disobedience unlikely.

A bluish glow illuminated the bottom of the stairs as you arrived, casting hazy shadows throughout the room. A quick survey revealed a sconce with no fire, but a glowing crystal. You made a mental note to look into _that_ later. First though…

Several barrels were stacked against the walls, old candles melted to the wick upon them. Also upon them were several preserves jars filled with...animal parts. Because of course they were. Sighing, you put down the candelabra on the lowest step, followed by your bag after taking out your journal and a charcoal pencil. 

Scowling, you started inventorying each item and your best guess as to its use, gagging slightly as you documented what looked to be a sheep's stomach. On this went until the landing was documented, and you moved on to the next room.

Upon first entering, this room looked exactly like a dungeon; it was small, had a reinforced door and chains hanging off one wall. But when you stepped father in and the reach of your light grew, you saw what looked like...a mirror? A mirror with a table, a scattering of items upon it. 

As you went to place the light on the table, your eyes caught on the glint of the knife and you froze. A chill ran up your spine as you saw it was stained. What the _hell_ had Viren been up to?

Shaking your head to clear your dark thoughts, you meticulously documented each item. As you wrote, however, you couldn’t shake the sense of unease. Unnervingly, it felt like you were being watched and you surreptitiously glanced around to make sure there were no magic monsters hiding in the corners.

When you saw none you laughed at your own fear, though it was shaky.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re being ridiculous.” You chastised as you finished inventory of the table. “Magic monsters. Yeah right.”

Turning back towards the mirror, you took in it's ornateness. It was framed with some sort of runes carved into the side of gold plating, ending with a flourish at it's top. It was also full length.

You snorted at Viren’s narcissism and began to sketch the runes. As you sketched, you wondered at their meaning. None of them you were familiar with but...absentmindedly you ran your finger over the one that looked like a fancy capital ‘H’. You didn’t know what they meant but they seemed similar to known runes, but with more flourish. Perhaps it was ancient script, some accents lost with time? Or did the extra lines add more meaning?

Lost in thought, you caught movement reflecting in the mirror and distractedly glanced over, expecting an errant piece of hair. 

Black eyes stared back at you, golden iris’ alight with curiosity. 

You blink dumbly for a beat before your confusion is beat out by terror. 

“WHAT.” You stumble over the table in your haste to place some distance, knocking most of the items off and falling on your ass, still scrambling to back up. You quickly find your back to a wall, staring open-mouthed in abject horror at-

Wait. 

Fully taking in the image in the mirror, you see a startouch elf looking down at you, amusement coloring his features.

Your eyes narrow. 

He was laughing at you.

Shooting to your feet you storm back over to the glass.

“What the hell, asshole!” You thrust your finger up, pointing accusingly, “What is your problem!? Popping up out of nowhere like a gods damned wraith!”

Infuriatingly, he only stared back, smirking.

“Well!?”

Still, silence. 

“Who are you? Do you work with Viren?” You tried again, your curiosity slightly muting your anger.

Your only answer was a tilt of the head, and that gods-damned smirk.

Fury hit you like a red-hot poker to the chest.

“Fine! You want to be that way, I should just smash your stupid mirror and be done with it! Spying on me, on the castle, like some kind of...of...spy!” Pacing as you ranted, your foot hit your opened journal, discarded in your shock. You let out a breath when you see it, breathing in through your nose and counting to ten.

With one last glare at the infuriating elf, you snatch your journal from the ground and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

As the adrenaline wore off you hugged your notes close, stumbling up the stairs. Thoughts raced through your head, each more frenzied than the last.

Who was that? And why was he appearing in a mirror that belonged to Viren, of all people? You had a hard time explaining any sort of allegiance between an elf and Viren. His hatred of Xadia was well known, had eventually landed him in the dungeons. So why was he in contact with a startouch elf? Where did he even _find_ a startouch elf? The last known encounter was centuries ago.

Each question led to more and slowly your mind became a frustrating knot with no hope of untangling.

You didn’t know who, or what, was in that mirror but you knew one thing for certain: 

You had to tell the council.


	2. Research

Laying in your bed later that night, you re-evaluated your life and the choices that had brought you here.

You were a respected member of this castle, coming from a long lineage of prestigious and decorated scribes. You had trained your whole life for your title. And you had earned it, earned the trust of the King and his council, despite your young age. 

Which made this all the more worse.

Having made your way directly to the council, you interrupted what appeared to be a heated meeting. In your haste, you pushed for the entirety of the Kings retinue to follow you, and given your reputation, they had.

You had led them through the tunnels, down the stairs, into the dungeon room, turned them toward the mirror and…

Nothing. 

There was nothing there except your own confused face looking back at you.

Frantically you searched the runes, maybe you had activated a switch of some sort?, as the council grew more and more impatient. When nothing continued to happen, they began to trickle out ignoring you swearing that _there was someone there_. 

Eventually only Opeli was left, face drawn.

“This investigation has been hard on you, that is clear.” She began, gently placing her hand on your forearm, “Get some rest; we can revisit this in the morning. Perhaps things will become...clearer.”

What a nice way to say you were delusional.

Groaning you buried your face in your hands and turned over, kicking the covers out. What a disaster.

Whoever that jerk was in the mirror, he was going to regret this. You just had to figure out _who_ he was...and _how_ to make him regret it. But it was going to happen.

Eventually.

Ugh.

Kicking the covers off fully, you moved to your desk and sat down with your journal and began to sketch the elf you had seen.

You were no artist, but part of being a scribe meant that you knew how to make something look realistic. You searched your memory.

Long pale hair, horns like most elves but with more definition to them. Angular face, smirking mouth. 

No, wait. No good scribe would include something so subjective, you thought as you erased it, brushing off the excess charcoal. 

All that was left was the eyes, and you paused. Dark, obviously but...challenging? That was an artists description, you thought wryly and began to sketch. How do you draw “challenging”?

_You don’t_ , you thought to yourself, sharply _You draw what you see, line for line._

In the end you managed to get the general shape, including the star-like diamonds adorning each cheekbone and the galaxy of stars between them. But still, the entire thing felt...off. Accurate, but not really who it was you saw in the mirror.

Sighing, you petulantly added the smirk with a quick line.

Suddenly it was him, the handsome startouch that had startled you so badly that you had fallen on your ass, and then had the audacity to _laugh_.

You huffed, slamming your journal closed as if it was the elf himself.

Now, to learn more.

Quickly dressing, you exited your chambers and made your way into the main library. Being scribe meant 24/7 access and as a personal preference, you had moved your chambers closer for late night studies. Times like this, it proved fortuitous.

Grabbing every book you could on Startouch elves, you settled at your favorite table, in the back and nearest the grand window, showing out to the courtyard.

By candlelight you read, becoming more and more frustrated on the sheer lack of knowledge humans had on elves, in general, but especially startouch elves. What little there is seems based in superstition, no real evidence backing the findings.

Eventually, as the dawn begins to rise above the castle and you’re reading an enthralling passage about yet another startouch horn artifact (long lost, of course), the day takes its toll and you feel your eyelids slip closed.

\----

You wake to a hand on your shoulder, gentle shaking becoming more vigorous as your eyes are reluctant to open. You bat at the hand with a whine, burrowing further into your arms.

“Nu-uh, time to get up, Y/N.” You groan and lift your head up to confirm your way too chipper visitor, quickly retreating back.

“Go away, Gren.” 

“No can do! One of the librarians caught you, and they’re too scared to tell you to stop being a vagrant so they came to get me. So!” At this point he clapped his hands, making you jump and glare up at him, “Up and at-’em!”

You groaned low and long.

“Fine. I have to get started on the rest of the tunnels anyway.” You stretched with a yawn and made to turn towards your rooms when you noticed your red-headed cousin shuffling his feet, not looking at you.

“What?” You demanded. It was rare Gren was a loss for words, so you knew what was coming was not going to be something you liked.

“Well…” He hesitated, and your anxiety mounted.

“What, Gren? Just spit it out.”

“Ha, well, you know how you, um, interrupted, the uh, the council meeting yesterday ranting about some elf-man in a mirror? And then dragged them all down there to see, well, to see a, uh, regular mirror?”

Your deadpan expression didn’t have the expedient effect you hoped as he was obviously waiting for an answer.

“Yes, Gren, I was there. What about it?”

“Hm, well…” He trailed off, eyes not meeting yours but instead landing on the books spread out on your desk. “Hey, what's all this? The Complete and Total History of Known StarTouch Elf Encounters? What a...uh...COOL subject, Y/N. New hobby?”

“Gren!” You prompted, growing impatient with his hesitance.

“Opeli says a contracted scribe is going to take over the tunnels!” He rushed out quickly, and you took a moment to process.

“What?” You hissed out.

“Oh, uh, Opeli says-”

“No Gren, I heard you.” You slump back in your seat, face in your hands. Gren awkwardly pats you on the back.

“It’s ok, Y/N!” He consoled. “Those tunnels are super creepy anyway. Take it from me, you really don’t want to go down there if you don’t have to.”

Immediately guilt flooded you, much as it had since you learned your cousin had been locked away indefinitely just below you.

He must have seen it in your face, because he leaned down, resting his weight on the back of his legs to look you in the eye.

“Hey. Still not your fault, you know.” The sincerity in his voice made you smile sadly. In your entire life, you were not sure you’d ever meet someone as genuine.

“I know.” You say tiredly, meeting his gaze. “But what happened to you...Gren, I-”

“Nope, none of that!” You could see the wear of his imprisonment in his eyes, though he valiantly fought it back with cheer, “It’s all done with now. And I think it did wonders for my reputation.”

Here, he pounded on his puffed up chest.

“I’m a big bad soldier now, underwent months of really dark rooms and spiders and most frighteningly,” he dropped his voice to a stage whisper, “Virens company.”

You snorted, batting him away and accepting his hand up. 

“Ok, big bad soldier, help me carry these books back.” 

As you cleaned up your desk, you paused at something he said, a plan beginning to formulate.

Now...how to go about it.

“Hey Gren,” You began, voice just a tad too high, “My most favorite cousin.”

He rolled his eyes as he held the stack of books steady as you placed each in its spot.

“Only cousin, actually, so spit it out. What do you want?” 

You puffed your cheeks at his refusal to play along. 

“Ok, so, I know I’m not technically on the tunnel investigation anymore but-”

“Y/N, you know I can’t get you down there. They won’t even let me down there and I’m pretty sure I lost my favorite greave buckle down there.” He attempted to sound light, but you could hear the strain in his voice. He didn’t want to go back down, and there was no way you’d be the one to make him.

“No, no! Nothing like that.” You said casually, not meeting his eyes by looking for the next books place, “I was thinking, maybe, just to make sure I’m not crazy, go...uh...straight to the source.”

He looked at you, puzzled.

“Straight to the source? What do you-” You saw the moment it dawned on him, saw his face harden and your stomach dropped. “You want to go see Viren.”

You abandoned your charade of looking and placed the book before spinning to face him.

“You’ll be with me the entire time!” You rushed out, though you could already see a battle lost. “He’s in, like, a cell right? There will be bars in between us and guards outside and it would be totally saf-”

“No.” His voice was harder than you’d ever heard it and you take a step back. “After everything you’ve seen in those tunnels, after what he did to me, do you really believe that I would take you to see that monster?”

You hesitate and he knows you well enough to sense your argument before you start. He breathes out in disbelief before turning heel and walking away, books discarded on a nearby desk.

“Wait, Gren!” You follow him, grabbing his arm to turn him to you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that...I can’t even imagine what you must feel towards him. You don’t have to come in with me, I’ll be fine on my own if you don’t want to see him.”

His face is blank for a beat before going hard. Firmly taking your hand off of him he shakes his head and backs up.

“That’s not-” he pauses, catches himself, straightens. “You’re not seeing him at all, Y/N. Ever. And if I found out you tried, I’ll report you.”

Your mouth falls open, shock quickly turning into indignance. 

You don’t have time to unleash your fury, however, as Gren is already walking out of the library, not sparing a glance back, shoulders tense.

You watch him turn the corner and all your anger leaves you in a rush. It was so rare Gren was mad, and never has it been directed at you. Shame fills you as you head back to your rooms. It was wrong of you to put him that position, but you hadn’t seen it through your excitement at a potential lead.

You enter your chambers and close the door behind you, leaning against it heavily. A glance to your desk shows your closed journal containing your depiction of the mirror-elf, eternally smirking at you.

You pause for a beat before moving towards the journal and tearing out the page, folding it in your hand and grabbing your bag as you made your way back out into the hallway.

You couldn’t, wouldn’t, ask Gren. Gren was going to be kept far away from this. 

But you still needed to talk to Viren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading xx

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! xx


End file.
